


Without Her We Wouldn't Be Here

by cassyblue



Category: Imperial Radch Series - Ann Leckie
Genre: Gen, personal crises, r2sid 2018, reassurance, reassurence, self doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 07:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14351253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassyblue/pseuds/cassyblue
Summary: Tisarwat has a personal crisis before an important speech





	Without Her We Wouldn't Be Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ergoemos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ergoemos/gifts).



Tisarwat had been excited for the big gala. After all, it is the first anniversary of the formation of the Republic of Two Systems -- the new government that she helped build through the rebellion of the Fleet Captain, Breq Mianaai. Now, at the gala in her dress uniform, it feels off, as if she doesn’t deserve to be here or to make the speech about Breq. She tugs at the corners of her jacket as Piat hangs off her shoulder with a slight smile and a glass of arrack in the other hand. 

She scowls down at her feet. This is not the time to be having these thoughts. Piat kisses Tisarwat’s ear. “Something is bothering you, Lieutenant?”

Yes. But Tisarwat can’t talk about it to Piat. Amaat forbid, her patron find out about that! Piat’s gloved finger twirls the chain of the newest pin on Tisarwat’s uniform, the clientage pin that Piat had given her two months earlier. The pin that has caused Seivarden to speak to Breq about it. “Should we really be letting the baby lieutenant enter a clientage agreement?” 

Breq shrugged it off with a harumph and simply said, “I think the baby lieutenant has enough sense in her head at this point to make decisions. She is definitely more sensible then you were at her age.” With that, Seivarden slunk out, beat by Breq’s words. 

She knew immediately what Breq meant by “enough sense”. The “enough sense” was the remnant of Anaander. That’s why she is here about to make a speech. Because the Lord of the Radch stuck a copy of herself in Tisarwat’s head. All Tisarwat was meant to be was a bureaucrat, not a soldier, not a politician. All this, it’s because of Anaander. Not Tisarwat. Breq had told her to use it to her advantage. But today of all days, when she should be celebrating her choices and her achievements, the only thing she can think of is Anaander. That Anaander is the one who did all this --even after Breq ripped Anaander out of Tisarwat’s brain. That somehow the memories left behind are lingering echoes of Anaander controlling her. Just for once, she wants to have done something built with her own hands without relying on the crutch of the forbidden knowledge. 

“I need to go,” Tisarwat says suddenly. She needs to clear her head before she starts to talk. Piat looks somewhat unhappy by this. But she withdraws and takes a sip of her arrack before gliding off to join the party again. 

She leaves the room and slips out to the terrace with the hanging vines. It’s secluded, she can gather her thoughts here. Athoek shines, dazzling with blues and greens, below the station. Sometimes Tisarwat will wake in the night and just watch the planet. It helps put the dreaded thoughts out of her mind. A voice speaks from the shadows. “Hey, kiddo.”

Seivarden. What is Seivarden doing out here? She isn’t wining and dining on Breq’s arm?

“Sir.” Tisarwat says curtly. She hates kiddo. But also it’s somewhat comforting to hear. Seivarden doesn’t see her as older than she is. Seivarden sees through that all. Perhaps it is because the two of them are alike, remembering times long gone. 

“You don’t have to ‘sir’ me.” Seivarden rises from the bench. She comes to lean over the terrace railing next to Tisarwat. “You look flustered.”

“Everything I’ve achieved is because of her.” Tisarwat hangs her head, biting her lips. The only reason she hasn’t removed the purple eyes mod is because they are something that she had chosen for herself. Something of herself before Anaander. It wasn’t that she misses her past self. No, it’s that she misses the absolute autonomy her past self had. There are no sneaking suspicions about who is actually in control (despite Medic’s reassurance). 

Seivarden lets out a sigh. “This whole Republic? Tis, it’s because of Anaander. If Anaander hadn’t forced Breq to kill her favorite, well then we wouldn’t be here.”

“Yes. But me. All the things I’ve done since I was assigned to Mercy of Kalr. It’s all been influenced by Anaander. I have some of her memories. I have a lot of her memories. And Breq told me to use that to my advantage. But how much of that is me? I’m just using her as a crutch.”

“It’s a better crutch than kef.” Seivarden crosses her arms. “Tisarwat. Think long and hard about the things you’ve done. You were a baby bureaucrat, no? What did you do while Breq was on Athoek? You organised a way for the undergardens to voice complaints. Hm, that’s not very Anaander, is it?”

“I suppose not.” 

Seivarden puts her hand on Tisarwat’s shoulder, “Would Anaander have defended Piat against her bullies and tried to help her with her self esteem?”

“I don’t know. Probably not unless it suited her plans.”

“Did it suit your plans?”

“No, well...I liked Piat...she was very pretty.” 

“See. You’re fine. It was you. The kid who was trying to also hit on the chief horticulturist despite her captain’s disapproval. You’re precocious in your own way. Perhaps you have a little bit of a taste for power, but it’s not in the Anaander way. You like organization and systems,” Seivarden says. “Now I think it’s almost time for your speech.”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“But before you go in. I have something for you.” Seivarden fishes something out of her breast pocket. “Breq picked the stone and I picked the design.”

She holds out a pin. A amethyst is set into a flower. It is the kind a pin a mother or doting aunt would give to their daughter or niece. Tisarwat looks up. She doesn’t want to cry before the speech and ruin her khol. But this is too much. Seivarden pins it to Tisarwat’s jacket as she snuffles. 

“There, now everyone knows that you’re our kiddo.” Seivarden says with a wicked grin. “Breq finally admitted it the other week and I made her go pin shopping.”

Tisarwat presses her hand against the pin. “Thank you.”

“Now, it’s time to speak, kiddo.”

Tisarwat resists wiping her nose on her sleeve. But she does anyways. Very improper. But, she’s been adopted by her captain and first lieutenant. Aatr’s tits! Does that mean she’s a Mianaai again? Or is she a Vendaai? Does it really matter at this point. 

Seivarden gives her nudge toward the door. She enters the room her lips moving as she organizes the speech again in her mind. Breq is waiting for her at the podium, her face expressionless. She gives Tisarwat a slight nod at the sight of the pin. Tisarwat takes a breath and begins to speak, her voice carrying loud and with confidence.


End file.
